


A Twisted Tale

by orphan_account



Series: Robot With a Human Brain [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: (even though we spell that with an 'a' where i'm from), Child Abuse, M/M, Modern AU, Pedophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:14:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4757777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean is twelve years old when the claims that his next door neighbour is 'good with kids' stops ringing true. It is summer and it is too hot and Jean is itching out of his skin. He gets a 3DS and some kind words out of it though. By the time Jean is fourteen he has other things to worry about, like how to move on with his life without wondering whether the things his neighbour did were really important after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Twisted Tale

**Author's Note:**

> The tale sounds stupid on its own, I know, but it is part of some thematic naming that makes more sense with the second part. 
> 
> More importantly, yes, I technically wrote this two years ago and I didn't edit it very much. The thing is this was a fill for the [snk kink meme](http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/2848.html?thread=3312928) and I filled it and I managed to link it to another fill not long afterwards and they fit really well together and I had always wanted to write a third installment but after trawling the meme tirelessly I couldn't find a prompt that really fit, so I had to make things up by myself.

Even though Jean was only twelve, he wasn't a complete idiot, not like the other kids at school. They were all annoying and there were a few know-it-alls who really grated on Jean's nerves. He was clever too, he just didn't rub it in people's faces. He'd learnt that when he acted like those snotty little show-offs it would be rewarded with sharp kicks to the shin and minor sabotage conducted on his school books. When he got sick of having to ask his teachers for new books because all the pages were stuck together with PVA glue, or paint had been spilled over his notes, he learnt to keep his head down. He didn't bother trying to make friends who didn't actually like him and he made it clear that he never wanted to hang out with them anyway.

Jean was a smart kid, nothing like the idiots he had to put up with day after day. He understood things. So, when Erwin first touched him in a carefully delicate way, he suspected what it was about.

The months leading up to the summer, the months his parents dumped him next door with Mr Smith - he's a very nice man, he recently returned from a tour in Afghanistan, he says he's very good with kids and he won't mind watching you after school, we've sort of known him for years and he's lived next door almost as long as you've been alive, Jean, just make sure you don't bother him too much - had been enjoyable. Erwin had helped him with his homework, and taken him to the arcade, and to the pool, and the fairground, and bought him ice cream nearly every Saturday and Sunday for a month.

"Relax, it's alright," Erwin said with that warm smile that melted Jean's ice cream when he stole bites, and a crinkle of skin around his blue eyes. Jean took a deep breath and tried to relax but he was nervous about this. Erwin moved his hand more purposefully over Jean's slim thigh and squeezed.

"I have some homework I forgot about," Jean mumbled awkwardly. He didn't want to be sitting on the sofa in this pristine house anymore. He wanted to be back at home, in his bedroom and playing video games as he pretended he didn't care he'd never have anyone to play with.

"I'll help you with it if you like," Erwin said gently, the tone of his voice somehow just as intrusive as the firm hand on his thigh.

"I don't think I need any help with it. I can just go home and get it though."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No. I can find it myself."

Erwin weighed Jean up with a glance before patting Jean's leg and getting up to retrieve the house key Jean's parents had given him. He handed it over to Jean who snatched it from the man's hands and rushed from the house to go back next door. His hands were shaking and he was a bit too short to comfortably reach the lock on his front door. It took him even longer to open the door while he was on the lookout for Erwin, but he got into the house and pulled the chain across the door. He was still a bit nervous about the fact that Erwin was going to wait for him so he ran upstairs and hid under his bed.

When his parents got home, both of them yelled at Jean until he was crying on his bed and begging them to leave him alone. When they did, Jean rubbed at his tear-filled eyes until they were raw as he cocooned himself in his duvet. He ignored the knocks on his bedroom door when his parents called him down to dinner, and the gurgling of his empty stomach, until his hunger was unbearable and he had to delve into the stash of food Erwin had provided him with.

Erwin had said it was like a game, hiding food in his room so he could have midnight feasts of all the foods his parents wouldn't let him eat. Jean always slept the night through, so he never had midnight feasts of chocolate and anything made of salt, sugar and saturated fats, but he still had a shoebox full of these things. Jean chewed angrily at a stick of toffee as he wondered why his parents had both come home at the same time.

Jean's thoughts were answered the next day. It was a Saturday and, instead of being sent over to spend the day with Erwin, Jean was being treated to a day out with his dad. He should probably have realised something was wrong when his dad took him to McDonalds after an unsuccessful attempt at fishing. Perhaps fishing was something Jean's dad liked, but Jean certainly didn't and he sulked and complained until his dad packed away the fishing tackle and driven them away from the lake. No matter how much Jean complained he would never have been driven to McDonalds after a performance like that but there he was, sitting in a booth opposite his dad with a Big Mac on the table before him.

"Eat up, sport," His dad prompted as he nervously sipped at a Diet Coke.

Jean ate, using up as many napkins as there were on the table as he tried not to make too much of a mess with the gherkins, lettuce and patties as they slipped around in the special sauce. When he was occupied with chasing traces of burger with a handful of fries, his dad cleared his throat and spoke up.

"Despite the way you act sometimes, you are a mature boy so your mother and I shouldn't try to hide things from you."

"You're getting a divorce?" Jean asked immediately. He guessed his parents argued as much as any couple, but things had seemed tense when they were both around lately. A few kids at school had made a big fiss about things like that, sniffing with wide-eyed reproach at teachers and boasting to the peers about all the things their parents did to make up for their trauma. Jean wouldn't mind having twice as many birthday and Christmas presents. He'd welcome it, even.

Jean's dad looked confused but his expression relaxed into a pitying smile. "No, not that. Thank goodness. I'm sure you've noticed things aren't the way they used to be at home though. Obviously you have, otherwise you'd not have been complaining about a lack of Yu-Gi-Oh cards or whatever it is you want us to buy you all the time."

"I haven't wanted Yu-Gi-Oh cards in years," Jean said. His dad shrugged and swiped his hand over his lined face.

"The important things is you know that we're having to do without. The mortgage is one thing but your mother and I aren't prepared to lose the house just so you have a couple of extra toys to break. The thing is that the hospital is having some financial issues and it is very possible that either your mother or I will be asked to accept voluntary redundancy."

"Does that mean one of you will be home with me?"

"Yes, but it also means that we won't be able to buy that PlayStation thing you've been on at us to buy."

"I don't want a PlayStation, I've told you like a million times that I want a new DS."

"Is that the Nintendo thing? Don't you already have three of those?"

"Yes, but I want a _new_ one!"

That clarification didn't seem to go down well with Jean's dad who scolded him for being selfish and greedy. Of course, as per Jean's usual tack, this escalated to Jean telling his dad that he was the selfish one and that if he really loved Jean he would buy him stuff anyway. During the drive home, Jean grumbled and moaned while his dad was reaching the end of his tether and trying not to raise his voice too much at the tantrum. He wasn't very successful and by the time the car had turned into their street he had told Jean to get out of his sight; a request his son was more than happy to oblige.

As soon as the car slowed in the driveway, Jean scrabbled at the seatbelt buckle and burst through the car door silently. His dad called him back but couldn’t do much while he was still parking the car. Jean marched next door to Erwin's house and leaned on the doorbell until the man answered the door. He squeezed past the huge man and waited on the sofa in the living room and ignored the sounds of his dad talking to Erwin. 

He kept his arms crossed as he sat in the middle of the sofa. When Erwin came in to the living room, he knelt in front of the boy and rested his hands on Jean's knees before saying, "It's going to be okay, you know."

"They probably both hate me because I want them to buy me things like a normal kid, but I don't care because I hate them too."

"I'm sure that's not true. What was it that you wanted?"

"A new DS."

"A 3DS?" Erwin asked. Jean nodded and Erwin smiled lightly. He leaned closer to Jean and said, "I could buy you one."

"You?"

"Of course, me. We're friends, aren't we? Friends give each other presents all the time."

Jean didn’t know about that. He didn’t have much experience aside from the party he had for his eleventh birthday when he had been made to hand out invitations to his whole class and only the kid who spent their Science lessons picking his nose turned up. It was a shame that the kid had bothered to turn up at all, what with Jean insisting on pretending that he didn’t exist. His existence had been all too real when Jean’s parents gave up on the party and didn’t even let him blow out his candles. It wasn’t his fault that he had blubbed until his head hurt and his eyes were blurry and his teeth chattered loudly in his skull. When he let out a fresh wave of wails he was smacked around the back of his legs and told not to be selfish while he watched the Nose-Picker eat a slice of _Jean’s_ cake with a snotty garnish. Jean had never given anybody a present.

"I've never given you a present," Jean said.

Erwin looked thoughtful for a moment, looking somewhere in the direction of the living room door before looking back to the boy before him. "Would you like to give me a present? I'd really like it if you did. I might even be able to give you yours quicker if you do."

Jean really wanted a 3DS. He'd been seeing the adverts on TV for long enough to become desperate. He wanted one as soon as possible so he asked, "What do you want me to give to you?"

"Just for today, I want to make you feel happy in a really special way." His hand was cupping the back of Jean's neck and his thumb swiped over the boy's cheek. Between the hands on his knee and his neck, and the stare Erwin was fixing him with, Jean felt stuck. He couldn't find it in himself to move. He didn't want to move. Erwin had been looking after him for so long, and he was actually nice to Jean unlike his parents and the stupid kids from school. Erwin said he wanted to make Jean feel happy.

Jean said, "Will you get me games to play on my DS too?"

"Of course," Erwin assured him. "I'll get you as many games as you need. As many as it takes for you to forget the bad things. As many as it takes for you to remember that I'm going to look after you."

Jean decided to go along with it. He let Erwin's huge hands pull him forwards in his seat and tried not to flinch at the hands stroking firm lines along the curve of his shoulder and down his back, the rough warmth coming to start new tracks frown his jaw, the swipe of a thumb and the tickle of tucking stray hairs behind his ear. Jean was very still and didn't resist the man's lips against his own, the abrasive scraping of his cheek against Jean’s. If felt weird and Jean didn't get why people liked kissing so much. He saw people do it on TV, and older kids do it, and once his parents even kissed in front of him. He couldn't comprehend why so many people seemed to like kissing when he was kissing someone right now and he didn't like it at all.

Erwin mumbled instructions against his mouth before he dipped his tongue into the boy's mouth and pulled the boy closer. The proximity to the man, the hands around him, and the mouth moving against his were not things Jean enjoyed. It was weird and the foreign touches didn't feel like anything that would make him feel happy, though he could tolerate them if it resulted in a 3DS and games.

Being led up the stairs to Erwin's bedroom was something he could tolerate with the thought of the reward to keep him going. It was something he strained to keep at the forefront of his memory, pretending he wasn't bothered about the strange touches on his naked flesh and the uncomfortable intrusion of fingers inside him. It got harder to remember the reward when the tension low in his stomach got too much, his skin felt hot enough to burn, his lungs working faster to oxygenate his thoughts, his cock being stroked with determined confidence, fingers working inside him and making him shudder and gasp through his nerves and youthful confusion, his own hand hesitant and reluctant on Erwin's cock.   

From time to time, Jean had woken up with messy underwear, damp splodges of goo uncomfortable against his skin. It was strange to see what it was that caused the discomfort in the mornings. How it felt to shudder his way through an orgasm, no less one caused by somebody else.

Jean’s chest heaved but he just about managed to blink away the spots and squiggles floating in his vision as he requested, “Can you stop now?”

“Not yet. My present isn’t over yet.”

“Please.”

Jean’s voice must have been lost to the weakness he felt in his chest. Erwin continued on, fingers undulating slowly and purposefully inside Jean. It was weird but no matter how much he squirmed away he couldn’t get away from the thick intrusion. The vice of Erwin’s hand on his hip kept him from wriggling away too much. Jean didn’t like this present. He couldn’t help the boiling heat that streamed from his eyes and soaked the hair at his temples more than his sweat already had.

"It's alright, don't cry," Erwin muttered tightly. He released his grip on Jean’s side to swipe away tears from Jean's cheeks. Jean felt like he was going to die. He was being split apart from the inside and there was no way this was worth a DS or anything stupid like that. He could hardly breathe, tears choking him as Erwin kept going, pushing into him and keeping him still with a bruising hold on his hip.  

Through his tears Jean was able to hiss in relief when Erwin’s hand on his hip loosened. Jean scrubbed the tiny spray of spittle from his lips and he hoped Erwin hadn’t noticed just in case it affected his present. Erwin didn’t seem to mind besides swatting away the hand Jean had abandoned in Erwin’s lap as he fisted at his cock until the fingers inside Jean stilled and white heat spattered Jean’s stomach and the tops of his legs.

When Jean made his way home that evening, he could barely walk, part of the problem being that he couldn't stop crying. It was his mother who opened the door to Jean's feeble knocking at the door and she swept her son up into her arms. She looked dead tired but she held Jean and told him he didn't have to be upset - his dad wasn't really angry at him and they could talk more in the morning. She kissed Jean on the forehead when he didn't even touch his dinner, and she made him hot chocolate to drink before bed.

Jean had never really even liked hot chocolate, but his mum insisted on making it for him whenever she thought he was sad. He remembered her telling him about how she did it with her own mother, but he also remembered the way he had pouted at the story and told her it wouldn't become a tradition for them because Jean wasn't a girl and nothing upset him. Clearly, he had been very wrong and Jean was feeling very upset right now. He even wanted to tell his mother why he was upset, but she had this constantly harried look about her recently and it wasn't worth adding to her load for something stupid. He was getting a 3DS out of it anyway. 

 

It was not until Monday that Jean saw Erwin again.

Jean had never felt worse than he did on that Sunday, staying nestled in bed for most of the day with the excuse that he felt sick. He was used to the crying by the time Sunday morning rolled around but the pain at the base of his spine was new, as was the fact he woke up crying in a patch of his own piss. He'd wet the bed and that only made him cry more. The last time he'd wet the bed it was when he had accidentally smashed the windscreen of his dad's car and had hidden all day and night, in fear that he would be in the most trouble ever because of it. After changing his sheets and putting the soiled sheets in the washing machine, Jean returned to his room and stayed in bed.

The scent of the last week of school was thick in the air and Jean managed to coast along on that. It didn't matter that he couldn't concentrate through his lessons because nobody else could either. All the other kids were chattering about their plans for Summer in between craning their necks to search through the windows for a glimpse of the brilliant blue slices of sky visible above the roofs of the school building.  

When Jean missed History because he was crying in a corner cubicle in the boys' toilets, because a cute girl had smiled at him on the way to class, because he was sure she could sense something clandestinely disgusting about him, nobody cared because it was the last week of school.

When Jean got home that afternoon his house was empty - There was no sign of anybody at home and the driveway was void of cars. So he walked straight past to go to Erwin's house. There was nothing he could really do about that, not when he had forgotten to carry the spare key that belonged to Erwin.  Not when he knew there wasn't even a single other window left open a crack that he could climb in through.

"Did you have a nice day at school?" Erwin asked when he opened the door. Jean simply shrugged and waited for Erwin to move out of the doorway before entering the house. He dropped his backpack near the door, in its usual spot, before toeing off his shoes and going to sit in the living room. He was prepared when the blonde man started calling out questions from the kitchen as he poured drinks for them.

"When do you finish school?" Erwin asked.

"Wednesday."

"Are you excited?"

"I guess."

"You didn't come to see me yesterday."

"I was ill."

"What kind of ill?"

A pause. "I just didn't feel well."

Erwin came into the room and nudged Jean's arm with a glass. Jean flinched from the cold press and gratefully took the glass from Erwin's large hand. He sipped at the glass of milk and found it odd that it was the default offer. It was a child's drink, the first offer since he took part in something that was most definitely not a child's act.

"I certainly hope you're feeling better," Erwin said with a smile. It was a funny sort of smile where his eyebrows were drawn together and only half of his mouth was lifted. It wasn't a smile at all but that's all that Jean could think to describe the expression.

"I was wondering about my DS," Jean said as politely as he could manage. It didn't sound very polite but nothing Jean said sounded anything but rude these days.

"Ah, I went out and bought that yesterday actually."

"Really? Can I have it now?"

It was Erwin's turn to pause. Then he said, "Yeah, sure. When you finish your milk we can go and get it from my room."

Jean got suspicious at that so he very slowly sipped at his glass of milk. When it took him a while too long to get even a third of the way through the glass, Erwin shuffled closer so that he was practically sitting on Jean's sofa cushion. His arm was draped across the back and the tips of his fingers were a faint tickle through Jean's shirt. He didn't know what he was supposed to think really. Maybe he didn't have to worry. Maybe Erwin was keeping the 3DS in his room because it was brand new and it was sort of like when parents hid Christmas presents in their closets.

He took another shallow sip of milk and he was sure he felt it curdle on his tongue. It was summer. Jean had been sweating a lot on the walk home and it was obvious that it was too hot for milk. It was too hot for Jean to find anything but displeasure at the hand that stroked through the hair at the nape of his neck. Jean stiffened and slowly turned his head to glance at the man.

"Are you almost done?" Erwin asked. Jean shook his head. "I should probably help you out with that then, if you really want that games console."

Jean had started to say, "No thank you," but he was interrupted by Erwin reaching over for his drink, gently sliding it from Jean's grip and draining the glass. There was a muted thud as the glass dropped to the carpet and suddenly Erwin's face was right in front of Jean's, his mouth was aligned with the boy's and Jean was too scared to breathe when he realised he could feel Erwin's breath against his lips.

"Must I do all the work?" Erwin asked. Jean didn't answer. He couldn't answer when all he could think about was the firm hand slowly making its way up his thigh and the intoxicating proximity of Erwin. It felt like those Christmases when Jean's parents decided that because he was into double figures he was old enough to have a small glass of wine with his meal. Erwin made Jean feel dizzy and confused. Erwin felt like a headache.

Erwin seemed to decide he didn't want an answer anyway because he pressed their mouths together and kissed Jean the way he had yesterday, but without the instructions. He kissed Jean and his hands moved over Jean's body, feeling and remembering the body that was so much smaller than his own. He pulled Jean's body close and kissed him harder as he anchored his hand on the boy's leg as he lifted him onto his lap.

This close, Jean could feel Erwin's erection through their trousers and that was something he most definitely did not want to feel. He couldn't move away though. There was no way for him to wriggle away because the squirming was just what Erwin wanted. Erwin's hand squeezed at Jean's bum cheeks, almost examining the curves through Jeans trousers as though he was checking for faults. Jean felt himself being pressed closer to the hardness, a pressure against his groin that made him feel ill. It made him feel like he had all day Sunday. This wasn't school and there was no other stimulus for him to pretend to concentrate on. He was being pressed against Erwin's hard body while his mouth was being invaded by Erwin's breath, Erwin's tongue, Erwin's fingers.

When Jean gagged, Erwin smirked at him with spit-slickened lips as he slid his saliva-coated fingers away and said, "That was too much, wasn't it. Let's take this upstairs. That's where all my stuff is so it will be easier."

"I don't want to," Jean whispered. He felt so much younger not being able to say something like that out loud. His whisper was nigh inaudible by the end of the sentence and he wished he could use his voice properly and just tell Erwin to stop. To please, stop, maybe he liked to pretend he was grown up but he was just a kid and this wasn't what he wanted at all.

"You don't want to?" Erwin repeated as though the words were forming a concept he could not quite understand. He was cupping Jean's face in his hand and the expression on his face was not unkind. "I've been so good to you, you know. Who is it who looks after you when your parents are working, or when they are arguing and you just want to get out of the house, or you just want to talk to somebody who won't ask you why you don't have any other friends? It's me, right? Me, and I care about you so much, Jean. You know that don't you?"

Jean hesitated but he nodded all the same.

"That's right, you know I care about you. You care a lot about me too, don't you? You know I would never hurt you and that it upsets me when you act like you think I could do anything to hurt you. Do you really want to make me really upset? You know what that feels like, don't you. You know how horrible it is when someone you care about, someone you think cares just as much about you, disappoints you and makes you upset."

That didn't feel fair. Jean knew all too well what that felt like but he wished that not disappointing Erwin meant less of a sacrifice. He wished it didn't mean giving this to Erwin. There were a million things he would sooner have done but he had the feeling they were a million things the man would only care about after this.  

"Okay," Jean said. Then, "Fine. Whatever."

That was the statement that led to him being carried up the stairs in Erwin's arms as though he were a much smaller child. He was torn between clinging to Erwin and trying to slip away, only sticking to the former because the latter would be futile. Erwin's tall and broad frame was made entirely of combat-hardened muscle and carrying Jean was easy as anything. It was all Jean could do to quietly comply as Erwin kicked his bedroom door shut and placed the boy on his bed.

"Take off your clothes for me," Erwin ordered.

Jean's heart sank. He had been hoping that perhaps that would have been the extent of it and he could have walked out of here with a 3DS and a bit more of a confusing start to puberty. That was clearly not the case and he took a few deep breaths before moving trembling hands to unbutton his school shirt.

Each button was harder to unbutton than the last. By the time he reached the very last button on his shirt, Erwin had stilled the boy's trembling hands with a steady one of his own.

"Don't be so nervous," Erwin said.

Jean couldn't help but feel nervous but he nodded all the same. He closed his eyes and pushed the button through its hole. He didn't quite manage to slip the shirt from his shoulders but Erwin did that for him, an almost paternal gesture as he dropped a kiss onto Jean's forehead through a fringe of mousy-brown hair. Then the moment lived up to its fragility as Erwin's hand grazed Jean's crotch. His other hand was firm against Jean's ribs.

"You're wonderful, you know," Erwin said. "You're on the perfect side of beautiful. Such a handsome little man, you are. I almost wish that this would be it for you, that you'd never grow any taller than this. Imagine if you stayed that way up here too," he noted as the hand on Jean's side moved to cup the back of Jean's skull. "Could you do that for me? Could you stay this small and cute, and innocently earnest as you are right now?"

Jean decided it wasn't a question he was supposed to answer and instead stayed quiet as he was pushed to lie down on the mattress. He tried not to dwell on Erwin's nonsensical muttering, because that was all it was, nonsense. It had to be nonsense because thinking of those words as something rational made Jean's head hurt. He just stayed quiet and ignored the dull ache in the back of his head as Erwin removed his school trousers and then his underwear.

"Cute, see," Erwin muttered, "Little red briefs. I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll-"

"Please don't."

Erwin leaned over the boy, licked at his lips before kissing him on his lips, his nose, his eyelids, his cheeks, all over his face. "Do you want me to stop talking? That's it? I'll stop for you."

Jean wasn't sure that promise was enough. Not when Erwin's mouth had licked and kissed its way to Jean's chest to suck at one of Jean's nipples. He didn't quite understand it, though he had known them to react to the cold. He had never imagined they would harden to points because of Erwin's mouth. The way his insides reacted to the scrape of teeth across his nipple was a surprise. He hoped that would be the end of it but Erwin decided that both nipples needed attention. Jean just lay limp and waited for some sort of end to come into sight.

Perhaps he assumed the beginning of the end was when Erwin quickly stripped off his own clothes and approached Jean with the bottle of lube he had brought out before. Jean didn't even have to be told to move so that he could accommodate Erwin between his legs. He just followed the wordless nudges and softer smiles until he was pinned down by just Erwin's gaze as the man's fingers worked inside him. Fingers that were too long and thick and too purposeful in the way they opened Jean up. Fingers that were eking out muted sobs and wails from Jean's chest.

"Hey, hey," Erwin said softly, "I'm not doing this to hurt you. Don't forget that I care about you and I am doing this because of how much we care about one another."

Erwin's words did nothing to calm Jean and the tears kept coming, thick and fast, as Erwin added another finger.

Erwin's words sounded like lies when the very act as he spoke was so painful. The insistent press that went too deep and pressed him too wide never stopped hurting. It was a pain Jean had felt all day Sunday and the slightly dulled reminder of it had been present in Jean's mind the whole day at school. And it was only getting worse as Erwin reopened this particular wound with renewed vigour.

It was when Erwin gripped onto Jean's hips and pushed into the gaping hole, the space that longed to be filled no matter how much Jean dreaded such a thing, that the pain remembered from before came flooding back in a fresh wave that Jean felt right down to his bones.  

The pain was a sharp point of focus, yet Jean was still well aware of Erwin kissing away his tears, of Erwin's fingers pressing more firmly at his hip and around his wrist, of Erwin grunting and panting through the twinkle of a smile on his face.

Jean wished he wasn't aware. He wished he couldn't hear the babble of words that streamed from that smile, telling Jean he was doing such a good job, and he was so smart and handsome, and that he was so special, and that nobody in the world had made Erwin feel as special as Jean was making him feel, that he was so glad Jean wanted to be with him like this.

Jean didn't quite remember how the afternoon ended. He assumed it must have went the way Erwin wanted though because Jean had his present. He had his Nintendo 3DS, the one he had been desperate for, and he remembered how that set the trend for the rest of his summer.

Over the summer holidays, the hot days when Erwin would ply him with lemonade and a kiss, it became something Jean got used to. The constant reminders that Erwin was so glad Jean cared about him were accompanied by soft nips to Jean's ear. Intimate touches out of sight of the rest of the world, and frozen ice cream kisses, and demands that were posed as polite requests under the shade of deep summer shadows became part of Jean's routine as he hid away the gifts Erwin gave him – he had a box under his bed for all the games for his DS and he was careful to scuff his new shoes so they could be mistaken for an old forgotten pair recovered from the deepest recesses of un unused toy box -  and avoided spending time with his parents.

He didn't want to bother them, not while they were struggling to muddle their way through work that might not be there in a few month's time, so he was at Erwin's house almost every day. He still hated the touches, they felt unnatural against his skin and they almost always led to pain, but they were his alone. Those touches and the understanding smile that shaped words that made Jean feel like he was worth something to somebody belonged only to him. So, as much as he resented the touches, he leaned into them and tried his best to return the gestures because it was Erwin.

Erwin said he liked it when Jean initiated kisses, so Jean tried to take the initiative sometimes. Erwin said he liked it when Jean acted coy, so Jean learnt to peer up through his lashes and bite his lip as he looked over his shoulder in what he hoped was an inviting manner. Erwin said he loved Jean's legs, so Jean wore shorts on some days. Erwin said he liked it when Jean got childish and sulked, so Jean would occasionally pout and glower and turn his head away so that Erwin had to work for kisses and knowing glances. Erwin said he liked Jean soft and hairless so Jean did everything he could to hide the signs he was growing up, shaving hairs he might have imagined as he practiced speaking in a voice that would not crack.

It lasted until Erwin one day told Jean that he would be leaving soon.

"I'll be on a tour again for around six months, though I've had my family hounding me to visit so I might not be back for longer than that," Erwin said matter-of-factly.

Jean didn't quite understand what that meant for a moment. He would be without Erwin for over six months and there would be nobody to actually tell him they loved him. He was mulling that over when he heard Erwin say, "I really do wish you would stay like this forever. It's easier to love you this way."

Erwin said he wanted Jean to stay young forever, but there was nothing Jean could do about that.

 

Marco was a kid with freckles and a little bit too much honesty. He was an okay kid though. Jean occasionally spoke to him and he was one of the few kids who took a genuine interest in Jean, so it felt nice to talk to him.

After the summer he came into school in a wheelchair and a sudden concern for the fact that the school seemed to have only been built with the able-bodied in mind. He was a year older than Jean but he was being held back a year because he had missed over six months of school for reasons the other kids never seemed to run out of. Marco wasn’t in any of Jean’s classes but he always seemed to be in the school library. That was coincidentally where Jean liked to spend lunchtimes, sneaking sandwiches out of sight of the librarian and listening to Marco lament how difficult schoolwork was. Marco was probably only saying that to be funny because Jean knew the older boy was actually really smart, but it was a start for conversation.

"How did you end up in a wheelchair?" Jean asked after a month of this routine.

"I sort of got into an accident?" Marco replied with a self-deprecating grin and a shrug, casual as anything, as though getting paralysed was something he did regularly. As though it was so typical, such a _Marco_ thing to do.

Jean laughed aloud, not caring about the students sitting not too far away and looking for all the world as though Jean's loud and distracting laugh was the last thing they needed. He couldn't stop himself from laughing and Marco still looked like it was just one of those things - a 'what did you do at the weekend?' 'oh I lost the use of my legs, silly me' kind of thing - and Jean just could not stop laughing. It wasn't even funny but he could not stop laughing. His sides were splitting and tears were rolling from his eyes as he gasped for breath.

"Are you alright?" Marco asked. Jean could only nod his head through his silent bursts of laughter that were maybe closer to sobs.

The sight of Jean laughing too hard to breathe seemed to tickle Marco as well. His lips curved into a grin and he too was laughing, though perhaps he was not even sure why. The chortles and guffaws got the pair sent out of the library not long after they started laughing. They ended up outside in the frigid autumn air, Jean crossing his arms over his jacket, and Marco rolling alongside him leisurely. They were still smiling at one another, cheeks pink from the unseasonal cold, and maybe it was a bit awkward at this point as they shot each other sidelong glances.

"I haven't finished my homework, you know," Marco noted.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I have quite a bit to get through and I could always use your brains to help me get my head around integers."

Jean paused for a moment. Erwin was back from his most recent tour. He had been back for a while and, even after the usual weeks of doing absolutely nothing, Erwin hadn't spoken to Jean. He had spoken to Jean's parents when several times and had been out and about going on little visits to all his friends in town. It seemed he wanted to see and speak to everybody who was not Jean. Jean was sort of avoiding Erwin too, not really wanting to chance seeing him weeding his front garden or anything like that, so he had been going home as late as possible. Hanging out with Marco was probably better than sitting in the corner of a family restaurant and stretching out the cheapest item on the menu until he simply had to go home.

"I suppose you'll only make yourself look stupid if I'm not there to do your homework for you."

Marco didn't refute that claim but instead asked why he was carrying Jeans books on his lap as he led the way to his house.

That became a new routine after a while. At fourteen years old, Jean being home alone was not as much of a worry for his parents; his father was still nursing at the hospital, but his mother could sometimes come home early from her job at a General Practitioner's surgery so they didn't ask Erwin to watch him after school. Even if Jean's mother couldn't be at home in the evenings, he could feed himself and it was decided he wasn't likely to burn the house down. Jean never told his parents about the fact that he usually stayed out by himself until the evenings and they wouldn't have to know about how pathetic their son was if he made a friend.

Mostly, they did homework and played video games, and Marco used the fact that he was in a wheelchair as an excuse when Jean complained that he shouldn't have to help him with his homework, or when he happened to be terrible at every video game they played.

"I think we should give this up," Jean sighed as he tossed the Wii control aside.

"No, I'm sure I'll get it this time. My finger just keeps accidentally hitting the A button."

"What, you keep accidentally bubbling out of the level conveniently after you killed me?"

Marco smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck, "Yeah, sure. It's all just a funny coincidence."

"It's not funny at all. Are you sure you're a real teenage boy? I'm just having difficulty believing you're a human being who understands the concepts of not killing team mates. I wouldn't have pinned you down as this much of an asshole before you were in a wheelchair."

"Not before I was in a wheelchair," Marco muttered. "Before you got to know me."

"Sorry," Jean said. He knew he didn't sound sorry, but he honestly was sorry. Marco always got this displeased look on his face whenever Jean mentioned the wheelchair and Jean always forgot about it until the next time he mentioned it again and saw the expression. He supposed it didn’t matter so much when Marco brought it up himself. Jean just forgot sometimes.

"It's okay," Marco shrugged. He used his hands to move his leg, straightened out in front of him as they sat side by side on the bed, away from Jean's knee. "You mention the whole paralysed thing a lot. Does it bother you?"

"No, not at all. I mean it would bother me if I was the one who was paralysed, but it doesn't bother me that you are."

"My dad's still in prison, you know," Marco said. It seemed like a strange thing to say and Jean was confused. He was so sure Marco was going to pull him up on his insistence that he was fine with Marco being paralysed because it even sounded weird to Jean.

"Your dad's in prison?" Jean repeated.

"Yup. He'll be out in a month. He got twelve months for putting me in a wheelchair. We wanted as short a time as possible because he needs to be able to see my mum at the hospice, but the judge said he shouldn't get away with it. It was my fault anyway, you know. I got into a car when I shouldn't have; my dad was drunk and he'd just had an argument with mum and I went with him because I was scared. I thought I could tell him to come back to mum and apologise, but..." Marco nodded towards the wheelchair.

"At least your dad isn't doing the whole twelve months though," Jean said when he finally thought of some silver lining.

"Sometimes I wish he'd be inside longer. Now you go: tell me a secret."

Jean couldn't think of a secret to tell. There was nothing he could think of that he would really want to tell Marco. He couldn't say anything about Erwin. It was long past the time when Erwin would tell him not to tell another soul but it was something Jean never wanted to tell anybody else. So he shrugged and told Marco he didn't have any friends.

Marco rolled his eyes and asked if that was really a secret before poking Jean in the ribs.

The next day, Jean tried to kiss Marco. As soon as they were over the threshold into Marco's house, Jean bent forwards, steadied himself with Marco's shoulders, and leaned in to kiss. Marco tilted his head to the side to dodge before quietly asking what Jean was doing. Jean didn't have an answer.

He didn't know what he was doing, or why, he just felt like kissing Marco. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about what Marco told him the day before, and maybe Erwin was standing on his front porch with a tight smile and a polite inquiry into how Jean was. Jean couldn't stop thinking about what Marco told him because it was the only thing that overwhelmed the memories of Erwin pressing promises into his prepubescent skin.

Jean wondered what it would take to get Erwin drunk and angry enough to crash his car and paralyse Jean - do enough damage to get rid of him for a bit more.

It was no explanation for why he was trying to kiss Marco though. Jean didn't want to explain about Erwin, to explain that kissing Marco would be like a first kiss, that Marco made Jean able to tippex over Erwin's place in his mind. Jean didn't want to tell Marco that he had a nice face that might be nice to kiss.

"Is this your secret?" Marco asked in a whisper despite the empty house. "That you're gay? You shouldn't be ashamed of that, but I promise I won't tell anybody if you don't want me to."

Jean shook his head and decided to go home. When he got home, he noticed a stirring in next door's windows and he knew he hadn't imagined the flap of curtain in the corner of his eye. Instead of turning the key in the lock of his front door, he slowly removed the key and clambered over the low fence to shorten the trip to Erwin's door. He didn't even need to knock before the door opened.

"You're a real latch-key kid now," Erwin said. His voice was tight as he gazed down at Jean. It was strange because Jean hadn't stood this close to the man in a long while, and now he was tall enough for the top of his head to reach Erwin's chest.

"Can I come in?"

Jean spluttered and choked as he pulled his mouth off Erwin's dick. His hands were still holding the length that hadn't been able to fit into his mouth as he frowned down at it. He didn't want to look directly at Erwin's face as he asked the man to repeat what he had said.

And he hadn't misheard because Erwin once again said, "I'm moving out of town soon."

"Why?" Jean asked. Erwin prompted him to at least keep moving his hands, so he did - using both of his hands to toss Erwin off and adding a twist, or a squeeze, or a swipe of his thumb at the end of every few strokes just like Erwin had taught him to do two years previously - but he still repeated his own question.

"I'm retiring from the army. I need a change of scene. This house is nice and all, but... It's not like I have any reason to stay here."

Erwin was not the kind of person to bait a pole and wait for some to throw themselves onto the hook and beg him to stay, but Jean was a kid and he kind of needed Erwin to stick around. Even if the conversation before this was several months ago and the most memorable part of that was Erwin slapping Jean and telling him to get out because he wasn't cute any more, Jean wanted Erwin to stay. So Jean, his hands still moving as constantly as though his hands were operating separately from his brain, tried on the voice he had perfected a couple of years ago to say, "You could stay for me."

At Erwin's bitter chuckle, Jean went back to the blowjob and tried not to feel embarrassed about asking Erwin to stay. Just before Erwin was overcome by tiny tremors he tugged at Jean's hair, fingers swiping over the abrasive stubble of his recently styled undercut, and said, "I need to get the fuck away from you. I could never stay for you."

Jean might have cried the day Erwin did move away. He also might have spent hours staring at his naked reflection in the mirror and wondering where it had all gone wrong. He had grown taller in a way that could not possibly be helped, but he hadn't grown to a hideous degree. He was only on the cusp of puberty and he still had yet to grow taller, broader, thicker, and hairier. He still had a ways to go and he didn't know why Erwin couldn't have waited a few more months before ending it.

But Erwin had gone and for a long time, all Jean could think about were the words he said about not wanting Jean anymore, about how not even his cum on Jean's face could make him pretty again, how he was too big and awkward to even be considered the same brand of cute and desirable he was before. No wonder Marco wasn't interested. Jean shook his head at the thought. Marco wasn't even interested in boys, he had said so himself, but even if he was he wouldn't have been interested in Jean anyway. Not in ugly, awkward Jean who nobody wanted.

So Jean tried not to get too offended when nobody else even wanted to be friends with him, though Marco still sat with him in the library and invited him home some days. Jean just focused on his classes and tried not to be too obvious as he scoffed at the superficial and fragile bonds being forged between his classmates. He didn't need any of them, he never had, but when he went home these days it wasn't to a huge, blonde soldier who bought him everything his parents wouldn't. Jean didn't think about Erwin at all whenever Marco convinced him to eat something that was made with clogging arteries in mind. Jean didn't think about Erwin when his hands rubbed over the back of his head and disturbed the longer strands of hair that tickled over the stupid undercut he had insisted his parents let him get. Jean didn't even think about Erwin as he lay in bed, hard and horny until he simply had to masturbate.

Jean only thought about Erwin when a teacher was maybe a bit too nice to him, or the guy at the convenience store winked and let him take a handful lollipops for free. He didn't let it bother him too much though.  He'd sneer or mutter something rude under his breath and pretend he wasn't absolutely fucking terrified that it was just a joke anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I'm horrible.


End file.
